


How Far You'll Go

by Sinelaborenihil



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Hawke & Varric Tethras Friendship, Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), Purple Hawke (Dragon Age), Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29583384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinelaborenihil/pseuds/Sinelaborenihil
Summary: Varric confronts Saoirse Hawke after the events of Here Lies the Abyss
Relationships: Fenris/Female Hawke
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	How Far You'll Go

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to the Dragon Age Subreddit Writing Prompt: Drama “How far is too far for you, hmm? How. Far?”

They were out of time, the green mists of the Fade swirling around them as the unfathomably huge Nightmare prepared to devour them all. Escape was _so_ close, but with the creature there it seemed impossible. And then Varric heard the words that, were he able to have nightmares, would surely have haunted them for the rest of his days.  


“Go! I’ll cover you.”  


For a moment he was too shocked and horrified to even process what Hawke, his Hawke, his best friend in the entire fucked up world had said. But there she was, her cedar-color skin tinted sickly green by the ambient light of the fade and her golden eyes shining almost unnaturally bright. He _knew_ that look. That look was responsible for the massive scar that crossed her abdomen and the last time he had watched her almost die.  


But the Arishok had been one thing.  


This was an entirely _different_ horrible thing.  


His mouth was too dry to speak, but Hawke and Stroud had already begun to argue. Privately, Varric agreed that if anyone should stay, it should be Stroud. But Hawke was arguing, _of course_ she was arguing.  


“A warden must help them rebuild! That’s your job. Corypheus is mine.”  


Everyone looked to the Inquisitor, and normally Varric would have felt a flash of sympathy for Zuri Trevelyan. He didn’t envy her the responsibility. But in that moment...in that moment all he could think was: _Don’t you fucking **dare** leave her here._  


He could have sobbed with relief when Zuri said Stroud’s name, and he still had to give Hawke a shove towards the glowing rift that was their only escape.  


He barely absorbed the conversations that took place after they got out. He felt guilt for his relief, he _did_. Stroud was undeniably a good man and he knew Hawke felt a substantial measure of debt to him for helping to save Carver.  


But he didn’t care. He would feel those feelings later and say a prayer for the Gray Warden.  


Right then, right then all he cared about was that Hawke was alive.  


And he thought he might fucking kill her.  


“While they do that,” Hawke was saying as Zuri ordered the Wardens to remain and help the Inquisition. ”I’ll inform the Wardens at Weisshaupt what’s happened. It’s best they not get caught off guard.”  


He was _definitely_ going to kill her. Especially when she only nodded in his direction and hurried off towards where the horses were tethered.  


Varric caught the minute raise of Bull’s eyebrow in his direction and nodded to the much taller man. Bull would look after Zuri.  


Varric was going to talk to Hawke.  


She had longer legs, but he always made it his business to know his surroundings. He took a shortcut back to the camp and caught her at the entrance to the makeshift stables.  


“Hawke!” he growled.  


She glanced back and he saw her shoulders fall. “The Wardens need to be warned,” Hawke said, assiduously avoiding meeting his eyes.  


Varric felt uncharacteristic rage boiling up inside himself and did his best to throttle it down. “You know damn well that’s not what I’m angry about,” he managed to grit out between clenched teeth. “Offering to stay in the Fade, Hawke, are you out of your fucking mind?”  


She flinched -- he didn’t often curse at her -- and Varric felt an unkind surge of satisfaction. _Good._ Maybe something would get through to her.  


“My blood freed-”  


“And my expedition unleashed Red Lyrium into the world!” Varric shot back. “Should I go and feed myself to the archdemon in some misguided attempt to fix what I’ve already broken?” He stepped closer to her, glaring up into her eyes. “How far is too far for you, hmm?” he asked, "How. Far?”  


“However far it takes,” she said, her voice oddly emotionless.  


“To do _what_ , exactly?” Varric replied, narrowing his eyes at her. “The archdemon’s out of the bag, Hawke. The sky is torn open. This isn’t the Arishok. This isn’t a situation that ends with one-on-one combat and a fancy new title! This one one that ends in me not even having a _body to bury_ and having to write Fenris a letter that will _break_ him! This is one that ends with me drinking myself to death because I couldn't keep you safe!” He let out a harsh laugh. "Unless Fenris gets to me first," he said, watching his words fall on her like blows. "Because he'd never forgive me for letting you get yourself killed. I'd be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life." He shook his head, crossing his arms. "Though to be honest, I'd probably welcome it," he spat. "Maker knows that I wouldn't ever be able to _look_ at myself again if Zuri had chosen you to stay."  


She was crying by the time he finished speaking, and normally that dampened his anger like water tossed over a fire.  


Tonight, after almost losing her, it just made him angrier. “You can’t blunt force your way into fixing this,” he pressed, taking another step towards her. “You can’t ‘Champion’ your way into a solution here, Hawke, and what kills me...what _kills_ me is that you know it.”  


She took a shuddering breath and met his eyes and when she did, his heart sank. He saw no answering anger there. Only sadness and exhaustion so profound that it took his breath away.  


“But this isn’t really about fixing things,” he said and knew she heard the anguish in his voice when she flinched. “This isn’t about you being too brave for your own good. This is about your _guilt_ , Hawke, and the fact that you think the only way left for you to make the world better is by taking yourself out of it.”  


“You should have let me stay,” she whispered and it felt like a punch to the gut. “Just go,” she said, her voice sounding rough and painfully, painfully hollow. Her lips twisted as she repeated words she’d said to him one night many years ago. “Just leave, Varric, before I hurt you any more. Let me go and go write a story about a better version of me.”  


“Damn it, Hawke,” Varric said, his anger finally melting as he jerked her in for a hug that caught them both by surprise. “No. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.” He reached up and cupped her cheek, feeling heartened somewhat when she leaned against his hand. “The world needs you,” he said quietly. “But more importantly, your friends need you. Fenris needs you. And I…” he swallowed hard as his throat tightened. “I’d be lost without you.”  


She put her arms around him then, and he hugged her back so tightly that he felt her ribs creak. She didn’t stop him, though, didn’t pull away, and they stood there holding each other for a long time. 

Both of their cheeks were wet with tears when she pulled back. “I _have_ to go to Weisshaupt,” she said, the stubborn set to her jaw telling him there was no arguing with her. “Carver-”  


“I know,” Varric said, hating more than anything that he did. “But you’re going to write to me, Hawke. And when this is over, when we _win_...you’re going to come home and we’re going to have a drink.”  


“Or seven,” Hawke said with a ghost of her usual sass.  


He nodded.  


Together they saddled one of the Asaarash and Varric walked with her as she led the horse out. They embraced again, but Hawke was quicker to pull away this time. They both hated goodbyes and there was no escaping that there was a chance that this would be their last one.  


“Wait,” Varric said when she moved to mount her horse. He pulled his father’s necklace from his neck and quickly worked off one of the heavy beads, pressing it into her hand before putting the necklace back on. It hung a little crooked now, but he didn’t care. “Bring that back to me,” he rasped, wrapping his hands around hers.  


“Varric,” she whispered, her lips quivering. “I...I can’t take this. It’s precious to you.”  


“Yeah,” he said, meeting her eyes and holding them. “It is. So bring it back safe. Do you understand?”  


She took a deep breath and nodded, pulling out the heavy chain upon which the little wolf pendant Fenris had given her hung. She worked the chain through the bead and fastened it, tucking it back inside her surcoat. She pulled him in for another fierce hug before swinging up onto her horse and cantering away without a backwards glance.  


Varric watched until she faded over the horizon, then turned, wiping tears from his face. He was going to have to trust that she would take his words to heart and come home safe to him. Any other possibility was simply too awful to contemplate.  


_Andraste, please watch over her_ , he thought as he made his way back to the center of the Inquisition camp. _Please watch over us all. We’re going to need all the help we can get._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
